Jiang Shijie

Jiang Shijie carried a tiny brush in his sleeve and doodled everywhere, tea houses, temple steps, even his grocery list, because ink on paper was cheaper than food. He’d spend hours perfecting one brushstroke, chasing the balance between mountain mist and a single blade of grass. His Album of Three Perfections (1678) plays tricks: you’ll swear the pines are breathing, but look closer, the ink hasn’t moved an inch.

His work is in that album, tucked between calligraphy and poetry. Tap it, then swipe to see how he hid a tiny bird in every page.